


'Bonding'

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, No Sex, very violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Friday, and that meant it was bonding night. Naturally, James Moriarty was atypical and ‘bonding’ usually referred to kidnapping and torturing some innocent soul for the hell of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Having accidentally deleted my fic while trying to post the second chapter, I have re-uploaded the work.

The smell of sweat and blood was lingering in the room, a now-lifeless body strapped to a chair at the very centre of the mini torture chamber. It was Friday, and that meant it was bonding night. Naturally, James Moriarty was atypical and 'bonding' usually referred to kidnapping and torturing some innocent soul for the hell of it.

Naturally, it had been Sebastian's night to choose their little victim and he picked the first person who had given Jim the 'I want to fuck you' look at the nightclub they were out at. It would be well worth it, even at the odds he needed to go through to lure the guy out. And by now, it was well worth it to have that corpse in the room.

It hadn't taken much energy on Jim's part to get the guy away. Master of seduction, Sebastian had dubbed the Irish man, detesting that this bastard got to lay his hands on someone who wasn't his. However, the moment Jim had gotten the guy into the back alleyway, the sniper was there with some unfriendly fists to knock him out. No use in a struggle, after all.

It was easy to get the bloke back to the flat the two men shared, and even easier to strap him into the 'fun chair'. Thankfully, not long after, the man came to and began to realize just how dangerous of a situation he was now in. The bastard struggled, but his screams were easily muffled with the tape across his mouth.

"Hope you didn't mind taking me back to my place~!" Jim's voice sing-songed from behind, filling the room before he started giggling like the mad psychopath he was.

Sebastian was out of the room, though not far off. He never was. The rifle was poised and ready to shoot through the narrow opening for when Jim was done with whatever he planned. Usually, the blonde preferred not to take much part in the torture, preferring the ease of a bullet in the skull over a gallon of blood that was nearly impossible to get out of his clothes afterward.

But the boss had other plans tonight. "Oh, Sebby~ Be a darling and come in here? Can't have you just sitting tonight!"

Jim was nearly bouncing with excitement as he rolled the sleeves of his Westwood shirt up, waiting and watching as his favourite sniper entered the room, an obvious look of suspicion on his face. The shorter man grinned widely and made his way over to the other, pressing a kiss on each of his cheeks. "Knives, hooks, or fists?"

Now things were getting interesting. "We could always try a bit of them all?"

The man in the chair was whimpering, looking up at them with desperate eyes. As if it wasn't his own damn fault. After all, he had seen the two come in, saw Jim kiss Sebastian several times in his possessiveness, and yet the bastard still had the audacity to let Jim seduce him. Putting his grubby hands on Jim like he wasn't already properly claimed.

Pulling away from Jim, the sniper went to stand in front of their victim. His knuckles cracked briskly before he sent his fist against the other's jaw with a loud crash of skin on skin. "I liked him better when he was knocked out. Annoying fucker he is.."

Jim laughed and took one of the knifes from the table, twirling it like a baton between his fingers before slipping beside Sebastian to dig the knife into the guy's tied arm. The muffled scream of pain was enough to make Jim drag the knife up, making sure to avoid major veins, but enough to cause him to bleed freely. The victim's eyes shut tight in response.

There was nothing better than the sight and smell of blood.

Raising an eyebrow, the sniper looked at his lover's handy work and smirked. "Waste no time, eh?"

"Neither should you, Sebby~! Have fun with this! We're bonding!" Jim was almost pouting, though his eyes were filled with delight.

Sebastian walked to the wall and grabbed a few hooks. They were curved and jagged on the edge, like something one would use to catch a fish, but they were coated in a bit of dried blood and obviously much bigger than the average fish hook. He brought them over and had a wicked idea.

He used his hand to push the bastard's head back, Jim's eyes on him with curiosity. Needing both his hands, he peeled the man's eye open and shoved the hook into the lid, pulling the eyes open in the most painful way. He repeated the process with the other eye before pulling away to inspect his work. Wouldn't want their lovely guest to miss anything, right?

The next few hours involved much torture and a lot of rough, bloody and passionate kissing until finally the screams started to stop, the nearly gutted man slumping in the way that the near dead did.

"I want his heart."

"Knife."

Sebastian held out his hand, Jim happily putting the knife there. With a bit of pressure, Sebastian cut through the skin that was above the man's heart. There was quite a bit of muscle, but he managed to get through it with a few deep gashes. Soon, his fingers dug in, fighting and breaking bone and rib.

After a bit of struggle, the victim's chest completely open, Sebastian's hand drew out the weakly beating heart, severing it from the body as it ceased function. The man was dead now, the fun was over. The bloodied and slowly cooling heart was handed over as a souvenir.

"I'd prefer your heart, Tiger. But this will do."

And covered in the other's blood, they shared a soft kiss as if it had been the most romantic night of their relationship.


	2. Eyes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I only have eyes for you.

Dragging his fingers down the beaten and red cheek, grin spread widely across his face, the psychopath was near bursting with glee over their latest victim. How could this possibly get any better? After all, bonding night was his favourite night of the week. This victim was hand picked, a client who had even attempted to go rogue on them. Tsk, tsk. But certainly, his death could pay for his grave mistake.

"Sebastian!"

The tall blonde sniper merely looked up from his gun, raising an eyebrow in question. He had been sitting in the room, finger on the trigger for nearly an hour of play time by now. Watching Jim dance and hurt the idiot in question.

"Yes, Sir?"

"What do you think we ought to do to Mr. Beerly? Shall we.." The criminal went thoughtful, mind flooding with interesting and intricate ways of torture. "Shall we draw from the middle ages? Oh~ We could impale the prat, straight through the skull!"

Sebastian's lips turned up slightly. He always did enjoy how excited Jim got when he could take the torture into his own hands, even if it meant ruining ratty clothes he cared little about. And by ratty clothes, of course, they were all still more expensive than the sniper had ever owned before meeting his employer. "Well.. there are more fun things you could do with his skull."

"Oh?" The psychopath's eyes lit up, hoping Sebastian would willingly take part in at least describing his idea.

Setting his rifle down, the blonde rose from his chair and went over to a device they had gotten from a black market, lifting it up carefully, so as not to break it. The device was essentially a few rows of bars and a cap. He smirked slightly as Jim all but jumped for joy at the idea of using one of their latest editions to the collection.

Helping Jim get the man out of the chair, thankful he did't even bother putting up a fight anymore, they laid him on the floor, stomach down, and rested his chin on the bottom bar of the device.

"Wh-wh-.." Mr. Beerly seemed to mumble, obviously unsure of the traps workings, and clearly fearing for his life more than he had through all the hitting and kicking and biting that had gone on previous. Of course, Jim's foot landed hard across the man's ribs and he laughed.

"Oh, no, no, no! No chit chat!"

Sebastian secured the man's head in the cap, making sure his chin was still firm on the bottom bar, turning the large screw at the top to make sure that his head was unable to move. "Care to do the honours?"

Grinning exuberantly, James Moriarty positioned himself to stand above the man who was about to die, hands firm on the screw's lever. Oh, this was going to be brilliant! Slowly turning the device, Mr. Beerly realized exactly what was happening. The man's head was to be crushed!

"God, no!" He screamed out, earning him another kick to the side, this time by Sebastian's steel toed boots.

A slow death, agonizing pain.. Perfect.

Slowly but surely, the criminal's hands turned the large screw, the cap crushing Mr. Beerly's skull with ease. First to break, his jaw, crushing in and filling the man's mouth with blood. His teeth dug in all the places teeth were not meant to dig. His face crushed in, eyes near bulging from his head as the skull began to shatter, breaking into pieces and spearing the brain.

Blood poured from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.. And Jim could not stop giggling with the glee of it all. Oh, that pretty red that was not spurting across the floor.

"My arms are tired, Sebby~ Finish him~?"

Mr. Beerly was nearly dead, but still conscious, god rest his soul. Stepping in to take Jim's place, he finished the last bit with ease, the man's eyes forced from their sockets, the optical artery barely holding them.

Taking the eyes in his hand from the now-dead victim, he smiled. With a few pulls, the arteries tore and Jim held the eyeballs up triumphantly, hands covered in blood and slime. He offered them to Sebastian, giggling madly.

"I only have eyes for you, babe. I don't need them from you as well."


	3. Feet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've been running through my mind all day.

"I fucking hate athletes. They always think they're better than everyone else." 

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the comment. How could he not? His boss believed he was better than everyone else. Even if the sniper agreed with Jim, he couldn't help but notice the hypocrisy. From the chair in the corner, his gun aimed at the woman that was strapped to their 'bonding' chair, reserved specifically for their Friday night 'dates'. 

He simply grunted a little reply, tapping the trigger mindlessly without really pulling it. Wouldn't want to end this before a good round of torture could happen. Plus, the woman was finally starting to wake up. The would make this more fun. He watched as Jim turned to grin at him, picking out a knife. 

"Sebby~ Does this look good?" He held up a knife with a serrated edge, looked dull from where he was sitting, though. Would be messy. Of course, the psychopath would probably like that. 

"Perfect, boss." 

Jim's who demeanor seemed to shift from giddy to manic, waving the knife around in front of the woman's face as he grabbed a fist full of hair, yanking her head back sharply. It wasn't hard to see the fear in the athlete's eyes, so obvious from the way her body tensed and she began to struggle, mind probably still hazy from the drug Sebastian had slipped into her drink not three hours before.

Watching, the sniper licked his lips, watching the sway of his employer's hips, mentally counting the ways that something was wrong with him for enjoying Jim's murderous little dance, the way the man's lithe hips moved when there was a weapon in his hands. He shifted in his seat to lean forward a little, gun still pointed, as he watched Jim get to his knees. 

"Now, now. What is the most important thing to an athlete like you.." Jim ran the edge of the knife down the inside of her legs. "Thighs, that give you the support you need to run in the first place?" The trail of blood starting at the inside of her thigh began to bubble, a sign of how hard he must be pressing the dull blade. The woman jerked, which in all honesty, only made it worse for her, crying out in pain. 

"Or the knees.." He drew the knife around her knees, cutting a circle in the skin before setting the knife down, fingers digging into the wounds as he peeled the skin back, the sounds of screaming and crying only egging him on further as he worked, a maniacal grin on his face, twisted and sick in the way he was getting enjoyment out of this. 

Smirking, the sniper kept his eye on Jim, watching the blood spatter getting on his face, on his suit, the sound of screaming and the appearance of his employer making the heat pool low in his stomach. 

"Or maybe I was wrong.. maybe it doesn't have to do with your legs at all." Jim laughed, all high pitch and mental, setting down the flap of skin and picking up the knife again. "Maybe.. for a runner, your feet are most important." He lifted the hand with a knife, quickly bringing it down to stab the middle of her foot, going clear through the muscles and tendons until the tip of the knife hit the floor, forcing a screech and loud sobbing from his pathetic victim. 

"Oh! Or is it.. " He left the knife in her foot, reaching up to grab another, bringing it to the back of her foot. A quick flick of his wrist caused the knife to slice through her Achilles tendon, digging into her heel. He sawed at the bone for a moment before giving up, obviously not wanting to exert himself too much.

"Sebby!" 

"Yes, boss?" 

"I want her foot."

The sniper rolled his eyes, getting up and grabbing a bone saw from the wall assortment, going to kneel beside his boss, arousal obviously apparent as he looked into the other's eyes, sawing at the bone until her foot completely detached, ignoring the screaming, the sobbing, the pleading. With a curt smile, he took the blood mess of a foot from her leg stump and handed it to Jim. 

"Oh, Sebby. You're so obedient. A good little pet." The criminal leaned forward, taking the foot, and pressed a kiss to Sebastian's lips before sitting back on his feet, holding the foot up with pride. 

"Kill her."

It took no effort to draw the gun again, pointing it at her head, all the while not breaking eye contact, and pulling the trigger. He smiled a little once the room was silent again, loud echo of the gunshot and the faint reminder of screaming in his ears.

"Tiger, you've been running through my mind all day~"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't updated this in FOREVER. I lost my muse for a bit. But I'm trying to get back into writing properly again.


End file.
